Taking a sip at the bottle containing his beer, almost warm as he had held it for too long without drinking it up, Dean turned the page, revealing even more text, accompanied by the drawing of some shapeshifter, loosely put between the old pages.
He was doing research on yet another case, or at least he tried to, absentmindedly and without any real concentration at the matter at hand. Ever since their little fight in the impala two days ago, Cass hadn't shown up again.
The hunter had restrained himself from praying, still he'd been close on so many occasions, when he felt guilt dwell up within him, making him question his own decisions, actions. It ate away at him, burdened his conscience with doubt, uncertainty.
Dean felt like he'd messed up. Sure, Castiel held some guilt too, he had abandoned him for three weeks, but obviously he had a reason. The hunter didn't exactly know if it made sense to him, Cass not feeling like showing up, but that didn't matter after all. They were Castiel's feelings, and he'd neglected them for too long already, only caring if the Winchesters were alive, safe and sound.
Cass seemed to feel some kind of obligation, a task to keep both of them safe no matter what it meant, even if he broke himself in the process.
And in the one moment, the only time Cass actually tried to heal, recover from all the pain and sorrow he caused himself by doing anything for the Winchesters, Dean held it against him. He hurt the already broken angel by giving him another stroke, mentally scarring him yet again.
Dean pressed his palm to his temple as he felt a slight pain, like a sting in his bone, there was a headache creeping up on him. He closed his eyes, trying to ease the pain, spreading his hand over his forehead and eyes, thumb still on his temple, massaging a little.
The hunter sure knew where this headache came from, remembering the night before, empty beer bottles, at least six and some other stuff, binge-watching some series he couldn't even recall, pie, falling asleep on the floor.
It wasn't necessarily because he felt guilty or upset, but he wanted to get drunk, really hit the bottle, just to forget about anything that bothered him, to distract himself from reality. So he did, went unconscious late at night as his fatigue gained the upper hand, and woke up on the floor, stiff neck from lying in an inconvenient position too long.
He still was freezing due to the lack of a proper blanket, but he could've as well caught a cold when he drove home a few days ago, all soaked.
His thoughts drifted to the fight he had with Cass as he finally stood up, left the book open on the table to maybe get back at it later that day. His concentration was lost anyway, he'd rather do something better, more meaningful. Whatever vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters or demons there were, they could wait a few hours longer.
Without any real plan on what to devote himself to now, he toddled towards his room, maybe to get a shower or sleep for some time, maybe to just have his peace since Sam had to get back to the bunker anytime.
When he had one foot in the door, he felt weird, stuck between throwing himself on the bed and wanting to go back because he didn't know why he even got there. Unsure of anything, he dragged his hand across his face, trying to wipe it all away, all the uncertainties, doubts, longing and self-loathing.
He exhaled and shut the door behind him, getting out of his flannel, almost frantic, leaving him only in his plain shirt.
The hunter shuddered at the cold suddenly crawling up his arms, causing him goosebumps. He rubbed his arms to get warm, searching his room for more blankets than the one loosely hanging from the edge of his bed.
He'd get a nap, as many blankets as he could find pulled over his body, and then he'd feel better. All his worries would be gone and everything would be perfectly fine, no doubts anymore, no guilt. Sure thing.
Dean wavered, gazing at his bed contemplative, before he walked over and got into a kneeling position, folding his hands against the bridge of his nose, praying with closed eyes.
Since the first time he'd prayed to Castiel, he didn't think he got better no matter how many times he did, still not knowing how to start. He felt lost, this time just like every other.
Which probably was caused by the fact that he didn't receive anything in return, there wasn't anyone telling him his prayers were heard and most of the times nothing happened afterwards.
It must be frustrating for people who had no idea, no evidence there actually was someone listening as they never even got a hint. He'd once given up on praying long before, when he was still a kid, until he met the angel Castiel.
"Okay, Cass I'm sorry." he started, calm and faintly, shifting a little on his knees, pressing his elbows deeper into the mattress, and cleared his throat. "I said some things. I shouldn't have. You know I'm sorry."
Dean stayed silent as he had no idea what else to say, working jaw. Usually he'd go on and talk about how they needed his help with another monster, an angel, finding something, he'd gave details on what they already knew, but now he wasn't even sure if he should be praying at all.
"I... need to apologize." he then stuttered, furrowing his brows when he noticed how he sounded like an idiot who couldn't get to the point. "Now get your feathered ass down here and let's talk."
The hunter kept his eyes shut for a few seconds, not knowing how to end his prayer properly, before opening one eye to peer at his room, no sign of the angel, no rustling of his trench coat or light fluttering of wings.
"Well, that was a blast." he sighed disappointed and grabbed the bedpost to pull himself on his feet. "It wasn't. Have some faith."
Dean flinched and swung around, eyeing Castiel, just a few inches away from him, staring up at the hunter expressionless.
"Jesus, Cass. You really gotta love doing this." he breathed out, reproach in his words, but still glad he finally got through to his friend. "How long have you stood there?"
"Since your first sorry." the angel claimed, raspy voice as usually, making Dean suppress a laughter and look up to the ceiling with drawn up brows, unable to genuinely be upset as any kind of annoyance was still shadowed, swallowed by the glee of Cass appearing, actually being here.
The second he started praying, he didn't think it would actually work, he thought the angel ignored him again, still mad and hurt, or just not feeling like it.
"Couldn't have said something, made it clear you were there already?" Dean uttered bemused, gesturing with his hands. "I was kinda stranded there."
"I know." Castiel tilted his head to one side, a slight grin appearing on his lips. "Praying is not your thing."
"I think I did quite well." he retorted, pretended undertone of proudness of his success, allowing himself so sit down on the bed behind him. "I mean, you're here, right?"
Cass' eyes looked him up and down, intuitively, his subconsciousness trying to get a hold of any possible wound on his body. Ready to heal him.
"Are you okay?" he then asked, expression and voice filled with concern and curiosity. "Cass, I'm fine. Well, except for a headache, but that's not the point. I wanted to talk, clean up my mess."
"You don't have to. We both made mistakes." the angel hushed and reached out to press two fingers upon Dean's forehead, easing the pain in an instant, taking away his headache like it was just something you had to get a hold of and throw away to remove, to make everything better.
"Doesn't mean I can't apologize." he insisted, blinking a little as Castiel pulled his fingers away, still overwhelmed by how easy it was for a celestial being to relieve pain, even though he'd been healed by Cass so many times.
"I can't even count anymore how much shit I've done, Cass, how much you've done. I don't know anymore who owes who, but it doesn't matter." Dean gazed up to the angel who stood before him, looking back at him, silent, but he could see in his eyes how he wanted to negate. "Important is what's now, and just a few days ago... I basically told you your feelings didn't matter."
Castiel bit his lower lip and took a deep breath, nodding a little at Dean's statement. He was right, yet Cass could understand why he'd acted like this back then. He didn't appreciate it, of course, but he understood.
"Dean, I do know you're aware I have feelings, and I do know you care." he calmed him down, putting a hand on his shoulder, firm but soothing, bending down to look him in the eyes, dipped his head. "Sometimes at least."
Dean exhaled, broke eye contact and looked down, embarrassed by what he did, uncomfortable because of how close he was. "I do."
"You don't owe me anything. I don't bleed for you, die for you and I didn't leave my home in heaven because I thought I'd get something in reverse." he stated harshly, furrowing his brows, underlining his message with all he could. "I do because I want to, because I care about you. And you know that."
Dean looked up, wide eyes and parted lips, examining Cass' face and processed what he said, stared at his friend through his lashes.
"I know, Cass." Dean scratched his head and pressed his lips together, trying to keep his composure. "I just tend to forget sometimes."
The angel let go of his shoulder and went to sit next to Dean on the edge of the bed, relieved, inspecting the wall without cause, just to not make Dean uncomfortable by staring.
He heard the rustling of clothes as the hunter moved, rested both his elbows on his knees, folded hands.
"I promise I won't stay away again, I'll never ignore your prayers again. I'll never leave your side."
"Yeah." Dean muttered, glancing at the angel out of the corner of his eye before turning to him, patting his back firmly. "Or else."
He stood up and walked up to his closet, searching for just any warm hoodie he could find, since sleeping wasn't an option right now, he'd have to keep himself from freezing one or another way.
As he pulled it over his head, trying to find where he had to stick his head through, Cass followed his lead and got up, waiting patiently.
"I'd ask you if you wanted to go stop by a restaurant, but you don't eat." Dean let him know and adjusted his sleeves, walking past him, heading for the door, Cass following him unquestioning. "I'm starving, I'll go get some burritos."
"I don't have to eat to come with you." the angel mentioned and closed up to him, while Dean checked for his wallet and keys in his pocket, if he'd put it in there or somewhere else.
"Dude, when you said you'd never leave my side I was glad, but I didn't expect you to be clingy." Dean joked, giving his friend a cuff. "It's not good for healthy relationships."
Cass narrowed his eyes at him, almost warily, contemplating how he could interpret his assertion. He didn't want to get into anything again, no trouble, no fight, no embarrassing situation, so he just stayed silent, letting Dean make his way towards the impala.
As they walked through the hall, they met Sam who just closed the door. He casually looked in Dean's direction to greet him, noticed Cass and frowned, surprised and stunned.
"Cass, you're back?" he remarked, giving him a broad smile, cheerful and honest. "Good to see you're fine. We don't have much time, though."
Both Dean and Castiel furrowed their brows, inquiring glances directed at the younger brother as he put some books down on a shelf. "We got a case."
"Oh come on man, I wanted to get burritos!" Dean complained, lifting his hands up a bit in annoyance and disbelief. "Not fair."
"Dean, there's a shapeshifter in town, just ten minutes away, and he wants blood." Sam blurted out, pointing behind him with his thumb over his shoulder. "We're going. Now."
Dean growled, rolling his eyes, mumbling a few curses and followed his brother, grudgingly with grim expression. He knew what Sam was talking about, they've been trying to find out who and what the monster was for about five days, and he knew what town he was referring to.
The bar he'd been in was where he'd tried to research by asking a few people, but they knew nothing useful, leaving him as clueless as before.
When they walked up to the impala, Dean already pulling the keys out of his pocket, he stopped Sam from going around the car to get in.
"Ahh, no Sammy. You're in the backseat." Dean grunted and symbolized Cass to come sit in the passenger seat, Sam raised a hand, giving an irritated look. "You take my burritos, I take your front seat."
Sam tilted his head to one side, looking at his brother in disbelief, before he rolled his eyes and got on the backseat instead, changing with Castiel.
"My car, my rules." Dean grinned, spiteful and smug, as if he'd just achieved victory over a huge thing, giving Cass another bemused glance when he got into the car.
"You're childish." Sam remarked, making Dean turn around to face him. "I'm not, I had two options. Letting you sit in front or Cass, and Cass is clearly my favorite in this car right now."
"You are upset because your burritos have to wait a little longer." he retorted, squinting his eyes at him, challenging. Dean glared, turning away from him again to start the engine.
A strange silence lying over the three of them, he reversed the car, pulling out of the parking lot. Castiel reached out to turn the radio on, uncomfortable because of the mood, glancing at Dean out of the corners of his eyes as the hunter looked at him questioning.
The sounds of some metal song filled the car, breaking the awkward silence. It didn't exactly lift the mood, but it was distracting, letting them forget about it as they listened, followed the tune and lyrics.
Humming to the song, Dean's thoughts drifted, making him watch Castiel, furtively, without attracting the angel's attention.
He hadn't told him why he didn't feel like showing up, he only mentioned he wasn't feeling that well and that he had his reasons. But he didn't let a word slip about what was the cause, what bothered him.
The hunter sure intended to ask, but now was not the right time, especially since Sam was still in the car, not even knowing they had a fight before. He had nothing to do with this, and he was better off not knowing about it, so it should rather stay like this.
"So, what's the information?" Castiel asked, either to lighten the mood or because he was curious and wanted to be of help in this case, or both. "Alright, the guy's kinda weird. He changes appearance often, almost every three days."
"Why?" Dean frowned, looking at Sam in the mirror as he stopped the engine, car parked in some dark alley they had found. "Isn't it hard to be a part of society that way?"
"To be honest, I have no idea." the younger brother shrugged his shoulders, looking kind of distressed as he couldn't figure out what the shapeshifter gained from his behavior.
Changing appearance this often made it easier for hunters to notice him, he shed light onto his existence, his true species. It would've been wiser to keep one form and just occasionally change if he planned to commit atrocities. But what he did was stupid, noticeable, maybe he was suicidal or something.
"Does he know we're going after him?"
"I don't think so." Sam stated, getting out of the car just like his brother and Cass did. The angel only listened with half an ear, eyes wandering, searching the darkness surrounding them, prepared for anything.
"Guys, don't you think there's something off?" he noted and slowly turned around to inspect the other direction, squinting his eyes. Dean frowned, following his gaze into the dark. Pitch black lying all around them like a dome of shadows and dark fog, except for some windows where dim light shined through the curtains.
"Yeah. Why are all the lights out?" he then mumbled and swallowed, suddenly uneasy and tensed as he'd noticed all the street lights that should've been shining brightly were turned off. It wasn't that late, but it was already dark due to the time of the year, so the lights should be on anyway.
Sam slowly opened the trunk, instinctively as silent as he could, and rifled through their weapons, finding the right ones.
Castiel wandered off as he did and seemed to disappear in the dark fog, trying to find one or two of the street lights, which wasn't that easy of a task since they didn't even glow in the slightest.
When he returned after a few minutes, Dean already had a gun in hand and a knife equipped, still staring in the exact direction the angel had gone, waiting for him to get back to them in one piece.
"The lights are smashed. All of them." he reported, brows drawn down near his eyes, contemplating about why this had happened, how, and if it necessarily had to do with their case. There was a small chance it didn't, slight but not nonexistent.
"Smashed? Like, by throwing a stone or someone let the lights burst with their power?" Dean inquired and controlled his gun, checked the ammunition and made sure it wouldn't discharge.
"I can't tell." Cass shrugged his shoulders, looking clueless and somewhat apologetic.
"So, it could either be kids fucking around or some monster with a plan. Great."
"You two done freaking out about missing lights?" Sam asked, closing the trunk, and held a gun against Castiel's chest, making him glance at it in confusion. "Cass, take it. Just in case."
The angel wavered but still took the weapon, awkwardly trying to somehow hide it under his trench coat. He knew he wouldn't need it, as an angel he had no use for something like this, he himself was his weapon.
"We'll be careful, extra careful because of the lights. There isn't really much more we can do about it." Sam exchanged a look with both of them.
"Cass could be our flashlight." Dean joked, broad smile on his face fading as the angel furrowed his brows and squinted his eyes at him, irritated. "Nevermind."
Dean cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, clapping his hands afterwards. "We're gonna find this son of a bitch without light, and we kill him. Sammy, information."
Sam frowned, staring at his brother for a few seconds before he rolled his eyes, ignoring Dean's rather weird behavior. Weirder than usually, after all.
The three of them then left the car where they had parked, weapons hidden under their jackets, as they headed for an abandoned building, the place Sam had found clues, information concerning the shapeshifter's whereabouts.
Dean, at the sounds of Cass' footsteps, being constantly reminded of what he wanted to ask him when all of this was over. It restrained him from thinking properly, nervous, not knowing what to expect, but he had to focus on the job now.
Feelings could wait.